


Gift

by hjade21



Category: Food Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Biting, Cassata is so done with his shit, Earrings, Established Relationship, Hugging, Kissing, Language, M/M, Marking, Mentions of creepy dolls, Mirrors, Out of Character, Possessive Behavior, Whiskey gives weird gifts sometimes, unbeta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:40:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21751603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hjade21/pseuds/hjade21
Summary: Whisky gifts range from outright terrifying to luxurious, but his most recent gift somewhat tugs Cassata heartstrings.
Relationships: Cassata/Whiskey (Food Fantasy)
Kudos: 18





	Gift

Of all the gifts Whisky has given him, this was one of the most surprising. It wasn't appalling like the witches bone finger or the glamorous peacock fedora, but instead a normal gift. That didn't mean this one was anything less luxurious than the previous ones.

Inside the small box was a golden earring, the gold expertly forged and crafted to form a snake-like creature whose body coiled together straight down. The jagged, geometric edges gave it a unique look that entices the eye. But, that wasn't important to Cassata. What made this significant was the fact it was the very same earring that Whisky wore.

"Don't give me that look, my dear fruitcake." Whisky smiles. His slender fingers tracing the earring design before picking it up from the box. Cassata swore that the jewelries in Whisky hand and ear let out an eerie glint.

Cassata snorts, "Well, excuse me for looking. I couldn't help but note that your gift this time is...different from the previous ones."

"Is it? I made sure every gift I send to you was meaningful." The alchemist tilts his head. The smile on his composed mask never faltered, "Or are you still angry about the antique doll I sent you?"

"You asshole-" Cassata glares at him, then he reminded his lover again why he was still sour about that incident. "One, your little doll scared the living daylights out of Pizza and Cheese every time they wanted to sleep in my room. Because of that, they stayed away from me at night till I had to send it back to you. Two, who the hell gives creepy ass dolls as a gift to your boyfriend?"

"I figured you needed some aesthetic in your life.” Whisky shrugs lightly, “The doll was the first thing I saw that I thought would suit you.”

The redheaded food soul gave his lover a disbelieved look at his answer. Then he looks up to the ceiling of the Inn room silently asking all the deities above why did he love this bastard again? 

As usual, the assholes above was silent and in Cassata book that equals to a, “Foolish creature, we love to see you suffer.”

Yeah, fuck them.

And Whisky too, because the bastard was looking too damn amused at his suffering. 

Rubbing his temples, Cassata decided to drop the topic of Whisky unique taste in giving gifts to people that didn’t include poison or explosion. Instead, he went right back to what they were discussing earlier and gestured to the jewel in the alchemist hands. 

"Right, whatever- We agreed not to talk about THAT again." Cassata cuts Whisky off before his lover tries to rile him up further. "Just tell me what's up with the earring."

He swore he saw Whisky eyes soften up at that, but it was quickly replaced by the usual cold mirth and the too-fake smile of his. 

“This, my dear fruitcake, is proof I own you.” Whisky explains, and the redheaded food soul bristles. 

“I am NOT a dog, you- Hey!” 

Whatever he was about to say was cut off by the alchemist suddenly standing in front of him. Cassata felt his cheeks flush at the closeness. He averts his gaze away from Whisky smiling and handsome face for a moment. Then, he brings his eye to glare at him and the bastard snorts lightly. 

“You certainly act like a puppy, but no- this isn’t some mere ownership of a pet.” The alchemist words befuddled Cassata. 

Whisky brings his hands up toward his face. The redhead almost sighs at the coolness of his lover hands brushing against his cheeks. He felt the gloved fingers and talons fiddling with his right ear. Trusting Whisky to not pull anything, Cassata stays still and waits for him to finish. Then the fingers are gone and he feels a heavy weight on his right ear. 

“There.” Whisky states, observing his handiwork with an appreciative hum. He smiles, but it was softer (almost fond) than his usual smiles. “You look stunning, my dear fruitcake.”

Raising a brow at the alchemist appreciative (affectionate) gaze, Cassata had some doubts about his praise. He turns toward the room vanity and scrutinizes his reflection in the mirror. His appearance didn’t change drastically for Whisky to compliment him. All he saw was his own scarred face and messy vermillion hair with a heavy lump of gold hanging off of his ear.

Then his gaze shifted to Whisky behind him wrapping his arms around his waist. Cassata tenses at the alchemist talon-like fingers caressing his body. They linger on the side of his waist, his stomach, his chest, and Whisky fingers brushed against his neck. The sharp talons lightly scraping the side of his neck, where his pulse was beating rapidly left shivers down his spine. Cassata shuts an eye and lets out a quiet groan. 

He hears Whisky breathless chuckles against his ear followed by a soft press of intoxicating lips. The alchemist addicting baritone voice was like the devil tempting him to fall more into sin. 

“Open your eyes for me, Cassata.” Whisky demanded, urging him with a playful grip on his hip. Cassata whimpers quietly, but didn’t do as his lover ordered him too. Then Whisky tried again, taking on a stricter tone, “Open them. I want you to see how you look. How we look perfect together.”

Obeying his lover demands, Cassata opens his eyes to look at the mirror- to look at them. Whisky was still there. Their bodies pressed flush against each other, the alchemist hands holding his body hostage to his skillful talons melting him slowly. Cassata saw one hand tenderly caressing his thigh. The alchemist other hand was lightly tapping his neck for a moment, then his index finger began to rub affectionate circles on his skin. 

A small swell of warmth rises from within his belly at the gesture, but Cassata was no fool that Whisky had no ulterior motive. The bastard was always up to something. 

His lover hums against his ear, then the redheaded food soul observes with bated breath as Whisky sharp fingers on his neck move upward more. Finally, it stopped at their destination; the earring. The alchemist talons cradles the lump of gold carefully in his palm. Whisky traces the design with a calculated look; his crimson gaze focused in on him and him only. 

Cassata shudders at the intensity of his lover's eyes. The heat in his belly spreads down south, but the redheaded food soul ignores his physical desires. Cassata wanted to think about what Whisky gaze had meant, the emotions underlying it, and the fact it was for him and him only to see. 

“Perfect.” Whisky voice takes on a deeper and sultry tone. “It looks perfect on you, Cassata. Do you know what this means now?” 

Nearly whining at his lover seductive voice, Cassata was still able to respond back snarky albeit shakily, “What? That I’m your dog now, asshole?”

The alchemist laughs against his ear. Not one of his usual maniac or sarcastic laughs, but a genuine laugh. It was nice to hear that laugh, Cassata muses. 

“In a sense, yes.”

“...You’re lucky I can’t clobber you right now, because you basically called me a dog.” Cassata grumbles. Silently, he asks himself for the millionth time why he loves this bastard. 

Ignoring Cassata grumbling, Whisky continues, “In simple terms, it means you’re mine, Cassata.” 

Suddenly pain explodes on his neck. He lets out a sharp gasp of pain and his body immediately moves, but a strong grip on his body holds him back from moving. Blearily, Cassata realizes that the bastard had bitten his neck and looking at the mirror had confirmed his suspicion. Whisky didn’t hesitate to bite him hard on his neck. 

The bastard was marking him! 

“W-Whisky, you...you...asshole-!” Cassata struggles against Whisky, but the alchemist had a python-like grip on his waist. 

Then the pain began to dull down, the redheaded food soul felt a slick muscle lapping his neck where he was bitten and soothing the pain. Cassata grumbles knowing Whisky was trying to calm him down. 

Or distract him, because the bastard nipped and sucked the mark lightly before pulling away completely. 

In the mirror, Cassata scowls seeing a blooming red bite mark on his tanned neck. The scowl darkens at his lover triumphant look behind him. 

“Did you really have to bite me?” Cassata demanded, his ire growing at the alchemist light snort. 

“If I don’t mark you, how will anyone know you’re taken?” Whisky asks in return. 

The redheaded food souls growls, “I don’t know- Because you’re putting it where I can’t hide it with my scarf!” 

“That’s the point, my dear fruitcake.” 

“Pizza is going to notice-” Cassata stops abruptly when Whisky smiles at him.

The same smile Whisky always wore in public, at work, and meeting clients (strangers, even friends). The same smile that always hide what the alchemist was feeling and thinking, but it was clear to Cassata right now what Whisky was feeling. 

The asshole wasn’t happy he mentioned Pizza when it was their moment alone without anyone else butting in. Worse is that he was worried about Pizza knowing Whisky so-called “claim” on him and what that implied to Whisky. 

Whisky was always finicky about that; the bastard. 

Then his chin was grabbed and Cassata was forced to look at his lover, who still was giving him that pleasant (too fake) smile. Whisky eyes said an entirely different story and Cassata was forced to face the swirling severe emotions that nearly chokes him. The redheaded food soul couldn’t say anything at all, but Whisky had no problem speaking. 

“Why would you worry about your Sunshine knowing that you are claimed, my dear fruitcake? Unless, there’s something  _ special  _ between you two I have yet to know about?” Whisky inquires, but he didn’t wait for Cassata to answer and continued. 

“Whatever it is, I have claimed you first before your dear Pizza did. I’ll remind you again: You chose me, Cassata. I will not tolerate you leaving me for anyone else. After all...” 

Every word Whisky spoke was laced with dark possessiveness that left Cassata trembling in his arms. The redheaded food soul still remembered clearly when he confessed to Whisky. That very same day, he realized that once he had done that he had irrevocably bound himself to the alchemist. 

Whisky smile softens up before leaning forward to press their lips together for a gentle kiss. A mockery of their complicated relationship. Yet it was one relationship that Cassata couldn’t help but be content with despite how fucked up it can be sometimes. He made the choice to be with Whisky. Now, he shut his eye and bring his arms up to wrap around Whisky neck to deepen the kiss. 

_ “..You are mine, Cassata.”  _

If Cassata opened his eyes, he swore he saw their matching gold earrings glint eerily in the mirror signifying their deepening bond and entangling their fates further. 


End file.
